


I'm no Stranger to the Rain

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spencer is attacked in his own home, his entire life takes a spin for the worse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> I feel I should probably tell you all the reasoning for this piece though. I was doing research for a couple of my fics on FanFic, both of which involve male rape. Now, when I was looking stuff up, I didn't bother to use the phrase 'male rape', I just said 'rape.' I figured that would be enough, and that it would apply to both male and female victims. As I was reading I realized that wasn't the case.
> 
> Actually, I remember getting very irritated with everything I read, because the websites I used only feminine pronouns. Nothing I looked up even mentioned what a man's reaction would be. So I looked that up specifically, but I guess I've lived an extraordinarily sheltered life, because I was absolutely appalled at the lack of attention this issue was getting.
> 
> At one point I even got a PM asking, 'you're piece is very interesting, but I'm confused. How can he be raped? They're both guys.'
> 
> So this fic is written to raise awareness to the reality of male rape. This is a very real problem, and I felt I needed to let everyone know my inspiration and why they're reading this.
> 
> Now, this is not meant to be easy to read. This is supposed to be kinda horrifying. So, please, if you don't think you can handle that, don't read it.
> 
> The title comes from the song I'm No Stranger to the Rain," by Keith Whitley

“Hell is paved with good intentions,”  
~George Bernard Shaw  
_________________________________________

 

“Hello, Mrs. Hines,” Spencer Reid greeted his neighbor. His apartment complex was very friendly; everyone knew everyone. He wasn’t sure exactly why he chose to live here, being that he was far more comfortable alone than with people, but he loved the neighborly feeling that was in this building.

Mrs. Hines was an elderly lady that lived on the floor directly below Spencer’s apartment, and would watch Spencer’s house when he was gone. She had three cats, grey hair, and more grand kids than Spencer, a man with a Doctorate in Mathematics, cared to count.

“Hello Spencer! How are you today? How was work?” she asked, genuinely curious about his day. Spencer smiled. He loved it when she did this. It was something his mother never could do. Not that he blamed her or anything, but it was nice to be cared for every once and awhile.

“I’m fine Mrs. Hines. Work was uneventful. Just paperwork, but that can be a nice break from all our cases sometimes. How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, same ol’ same ol’. I played bridge with the ladies, because you know, Wednesday is bridge day, and anyways, I heard from Shelley that Mrs. Peters’ grandson was arrested! Would you believe it Spencer?” she said in her gossipy voice. “Supposedly he stole something or other. His mother bailed him out, though. Now, if he was my son, he would ‘a stayed in that nasty ol’ cell till he learned his lesson!”

Spencer laughed at her story. She always had some new piece of gossip from ‘the ladies’ and would tell Spencer about it.

“Bye Mrs. Hines!” he called as he walked up to his apartment, “I’ll talk to tomorrow, if I see you.”

“You’d better talk to me if you see me, or I’ll smack your little behind six ways to Sunday! Don’t think I can’t Spencer Reid!” Spencer laughed again.

“I have no doubt in mind you could.”

He walked up the stairs to his second story apartment and started down the hallway. His apartment was at the far end of the hallway.

“Hey, Dr. Reid,” he heard a man say. Spencer turned and saw his neighbor, Mathew, trying to move a chair into his apartment.

“Yeah, Mathew? And I told you, call me Spencer.” Spencer was always uncomfortable with people using his title. He preferred either ‘Reid’ or ‘Spencer’, and outside of work it was weird to go by last name.

“Do you think you could help me get this chair into my apartment? It’s a bit heavy.” For a moment, it struck Spencer as odd that he could get it up a flight of stairs on his own, but couldn’t get it into his apartment and properly placed, but he shook the thought off as paranoia and said he would, but that he needed to put his bag down in his apartment real quick.

Spencer did as he said he would and went to help Mathew. Spencer grabbed the opposite edge of the chair and lifted.

Spencer was by no means the strongest man, with a skinny frame and more height that muscle, but it was made up by Mathew’s large build. He had large arms and legs, broad shoulders and was a few inches taller than Spencer, despite Spencer’s already tall height.

“Where do you want this?” Spencer asked the blond man.

“Uh, right over here,” said Mathew guiding the chair over towards his living room. They got it positioned, and Spencer said his goodbyes and made to leave.

“Wait, Spencer,” said Mathew, placing a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder to keep him in place. At this, Reid began to get nervous. There was something about the way Mathew was acting that was odd. Spencer suddenly wanted nothing more than to get the Hell out of Mathew’s apartment.

“I-I’m sorry, M-Mathew. I n-need to g-get go-oing,” he stuttered.

Mathew’s grip on his shoulder tightened painfully and Spencer felt tears rush to his eyes.

“M-Mathew, r-really-” he was cut off when Mathew spun him around quickly and slammed him up against the wall, so he was facing the much bigger man.

He gasped for air as his breath left him and squeaked in shock. Mathew held him against the wall and looked Spencer up and down with hungry blue eyes.

“Mmm,” Mathew hummed when Spencer had squealed. “You’re so pretty like that, ya know, Spence?”

Reid flinched at the nickname that only JJ had ever used for him.

“Pl-please, d-d-don’t,” he said, although he knew it would be useless. He’d been profiling long enough to know that.

“But you’re so beautiful, Spence,” said Mathew, as he caressed Spencer’s jaw. Reid shivered. He’d never been touched like this by a man or a woman. He didn’t want this to be his first.

“Pl-Please!” Spencer yelled desperately. “Please! You d-don’t have t-to do th-this!”

“No, I don’t. But I want to,” Mathew purred and buried his nose in the crook of Spencer’s neck.

Spencer started sobbing loudly and begging incoherently as Mathew kissed his neck and face shoulders up and down.

Mathew finally drew away and looked at Spencer disapprovingly holding him at arms length while Reid weakly struggled.

“Now Spence,” he said like he was talking to a child, “as much as I love hearing those beautiful sounds, this is getting annoying. Now, either quiet yourself, or I’ll have to gag you. Understand?” Spencer nodded weakly and hung his head, with silent tears running down his face. God Spencer when did you get so damn weak! You should be fighting this more! You think Morgan would let this happen to him? No, because he’s a real man! Spencer’s self deprecating thoughts only made him cry harded.

He tried to be quiet, he really did, but with some man kissing all over you it’s a bit hard. My God Spencer, he hasn’t even got to the bad part yet! He hasn’t touched you yet! Man up!

“Spence, you know, I hate to do this,” said Mathew, “but I did warn you.” He tore part of the fabric off Spencer’s shirt and shoved it in his mouth, this grabbed a roll of duck-tape out of his back pocket and covered his mouth with it. “And I was really looking forward to seeing those beautiful lips.”

He dragged his hands down Spencer’s chest, the back up his collar bone, where he laid another kiss, then started to take off Spencer’s sweater vest.

Reid’s eyes widened and he shook his head in denial. Mathew just lifted the vest off the man and managed to get the smaller man’s struggling arms through the holes.

Then he started on the buttons on Reid’s button down shirt. Spencer was trying to yell through the gag, but it just came out as muffled complaints.

“Now, Spence, how can we have any fun with all these layers covering you?” he asked, like it was perfectly reasonable. Spencer just sobbed.

He finally got all the buttons down and was kneeling to untuck the shirt. He out his hands on the waist on Spencer’s shirt to get it out of his khaki pants, and Spencer started struggling anew. A fist to Spencer’s gut put an end to that.

“Not yet, Spence, but soon,” said Mathew with a smile as he placed a kiss at the zipper of Spencer’s pants, and then stood and took the shirt all the way off.

“Another layer, eh?” asked Mathew, as he began on Spencer’s undershirt. And soon enough, Spencer was standing with a only a pair of khaki pants and boxers to keep him away from Mathew.

“Beautiful,” said Mathew, looking Spencer’s naked chest up and down, before giving it all of his attention, kissing up and down his stomach, biting his nipples, running his hands dangerously close to his hip bones…

Spencer just stood there crying in shame. Finally, Mathew stood back up and grabbed Spencer’s arm and started draggin him towards the bedroom….

No! Reid’s mind screamed at him. No! This can’t be happening!

Spencer started to struggle against Mathew and kicked out, trying to scream. Mathew turned around and backhanded Spencer across the face hard enough to make him bleed.

Spencer’s head was reeling from the blow and he hadn’t even noticed he was being pushed down onto a bed, until it was too late, and Mathew was already taping Spencer’s hand to the bed post, then doing the same to his other limbs, so he was laying spread eagle across the bed, with only a pair of pants on.

Mathew stood above him and smiled. “Just one last thing,” he said quietly, before reaching forth and pulling down Spencer’s pants and boxers, then frowned when he realized that he couldn’t get them over his feet.

Suddenly, Mathew smiled like he had just thought of something, and pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket and began to cut off Spencer’s pants and underwear, before quickly undressing himself.

Mathew climbed on the bed and straddled Reid’s chest, putting his erection in Reid’s face. He removed the duct-tape and gag from Spencer’s mouth and gripped his jaw to hold it open before growling, “No teeth,” and fucking the younger man's mouth.

“So, good, Spencer,” said Mathew when he finished with that. “Such a good little cock-sucker… although I did most of the work. Spencer was in tears and too far gone, to even consider crying for help.

He was quickly brought back to his senses however, when he felt a sharp pain in his lower body. His scream was silenced when Mathew placed a hand over his mouth and started pumping in and out of Spencer, before coming, and moving back up to Spencer’s mouth.

And the rest of Spencer’s night went that way, with Mathew alternating between mouth and ass, before finally cutting Spencer loose and falling asleep. Spencer cried for what felt like hours, before grabbing one of Mathew’s towels to cover himself and running back to his apartment.  
______________________________________________  
“Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions; it's walled and roofed with them. Yes, and furnished too,”  
~Aldous Huxley


	2. Blackholes and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid tries to hide what happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter comes from the song "Blackholes and Revelations" by Muse

“I want you to know that I am hiding something from you, that is the active paradox I must resolve: at one and the same time it must be known and not known: I want you to know that I don't want to show my feelings: that is the message I address to the other.”  
~Roland Barthes  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Spencer got back to his apartment and fell to the ground in tears. He couldn’t think of anything past his pain and humiliation.

Eventually, he fell asleep curled up on the floor with nothing but blanket covering him…

i

“So good Spencer… Such a good little cock-sucker,” Spencer gasped and looked up at Mathew… his rapist.

“Please no,” said Spencer, knowing what was about to happen, even as Mathew pushed himself in.

Pain. Searing, splitting, mind-fogging pain. Stop! Stop! Is that him yelling? Spencer can’t tell, but guesses it must be, because it stops as soon as Mathew covers his mouth with his hand.

He keeps thrusting… in, out, in out-

i

Spencer jerked awake and had to try not scream. There were tears running down his face. It took him a moment to realize that his alarm clock was already beeping.

That’s right genius. It’s Thursday. Have fun hiding your weakness from a bunch of profilers.

_I could call in sick..._ reasoned Spencer with himself _but you never call in sick. Not even when you’re actually sick._

Spencer groaned and sat up, deciding that going to work was his best course of action. He shut off his alarm and climbed in the shower.

_Dirty. I’m dirty, so very dirty,_ He realized. He turned up the water as hot as it would go and saw steam raising from the shower.

_Doesn’t matter. Need it to be clean. Too dirty._ Spencer stepped in the water and sighed as he felt it burn the impurities from his body. He was sure his skin was turning bright red, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but getting clean. He grabbed a sponge and scrubbed his skin raw. Stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone and he had to get out.

He went to the closet to get out his customary Khakis, undershirt, button-down shirt, sweater, combination. He started to put on his khakis.

_Don’t worry, Spence, we’ll get to that later. Mathew laid a gentle kiss to Spencer’s…_

“Ah!” Spencer screamed and threw the pants across the room. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing.

_Calm down, Spencer. Khakis are out of the question. That leaves jeans and slacks… slacks are too formal. Jeans can be explained by sleeping in, which will cover other bases… such as why you’re late._

With that conclusion in mind, Spencer went over to his closet and quickly pulled out his nice blue jeans and a red polo.

Dressing quickly, he was already very late and didn’t want to naked for longer than necessary, he grabbed his belt with his cuffs, gun, and cell-phone case on it and his messenger bag.

_Sure. I’ll help. Just give a second to put my stuff in my apartment, and I’ll be out…_

Spencer closed his eyes and tried to ward off the memories. There was no way he could leave this at home. Everyone would notice. Once he was in control of himself again, he stepped out of his door, and made his way down.

Well, until he got to Mathew’s door. He almost had a panic attack just looking at the door, but closed his eyes, breathed deeply and rushed past the door and downstairs.

“Spencer!” he heard and turned to look at Mrs. Hines. “Are you on your way to work?” Spencer nodded curtly. “Are you okay?” asked the older woman.

“I’m fine. Just overslept. Bye,” said Spencer, then quickly left the building and made to walk to work.

Shit. If she, the old woman that lived next to him, realized something was up, then how could a group of profilers that he spent most of time with not? Maybe he could just account it to oversleeping.

Walking to work gave him a long time to think. Which wasn’t a good thing.  
33% of all men are raped. That’s 1 in 3.

“We’re not statistics, Spencer!”

1 out of every 10 rape victims were male in 2003.

“Reid, no wonder you can't get a date.”

66% of people know their rapist and 38% are friends or acquaintances.

“It’s not that hard, a Dalmatian could do it.”

Victims of sexual assault are 26 times more likely to abuse drugs…

“It helps,”

Oh, and didn’t he know it. When he took a shot, he could forget Tobias. He was numb. There were nightmares when he was high.

He still had the vials… hidden under the cabinet in his bathroom-

That dangerous thought was cut off when arrived at the FBI Headquarters. Good, maybe work could be a nice distraction from his thoughts. He went in the front door, gave the receptionist his quick customary wave and ran to the elevator, trying to act as much like himself as possible.

This is it he thought when the elevator clicked at his floor. Have to do this just right, or they’ll know… they’ll know how weak and pathetic you are. They’ll hate you. You know it!

Reid took a deep breath and did his best to ignore the voice in the back of his head, then stepped out of the elevator and made his way inside.

“Well, well, well,” he heard a voice come from behind. Reid flinched at the condescending words, although they were spoken in a joking tone, “what have we here? He good doctor Reid is,” the man, who Reid now recognized as Morgan, looked down at his watch, “45 minutes late.” Morgan hooked an arm around Reid’s shoulder in a friendly way.

Reid stiffened.

Mathew grabbed Spencer’s shoulder to keep him from leaving.

Morgan looked down worriedly at his young friend. All he had done was sarcastically taunt the boy a bit and put an arm around his shoulder, but Reid was freaked out. He had stiffened, was trembling, and his pupils were dilated, but before Morgan could ask what the matter was, Reid just shoved his arm off of him and murmured that wasn’t feeling well and quickly walked off.

Morgan looked as his friend walked away. He was lying. It was obvious. But, the only time he’d ever known Reid to outright lie was when he was either a) about to throw himself into trouble or, b) he was on drugs. Neither were attractive options.

And, as much as hated ratting on his friends, Morgan decided the best course of action was to tell Hotch.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Reid spent most of the day at his desk doing his paperwork. And Prentiss’s. But not Morgan’s, which was odd, because usually he ended up doing Morgan’s paperwork, too. Damn. He must have let him know something was more wrong than he was letting on earlier when Morgan touched him.

But other than Morgan, Reid was pretty sure no one else was too suspicious. Of course, when he showed up late, everyone asked, but he just said he was a bit under the weather and slept through his alarm. Prentiss reminded him that it was OK to take a day off, but Reid turned her down, saying it wasn’t bad. Everyone left him alone after that.

“Hey, JJ!” called Morgan when he saw her walk into the bullpen.

“Hey, Morgan,” responded JJ.

“Spence,” said JJ to get Reid’s attention.

You’re so beautiful, Spence.

“Spence?” asked JJ worriedly again as she saw Reid stiffen and start quaking. His breathing was erratic and he wasn’t responding to her calling his name.

“Spence!” she said, getting really worried.

He gasped and his eyes, which were mostly black from his pupils, darted around nervously, finally landing on JJ’s eyes…

Mathew held him against the wall and looked Spencer up and down with hungry blue eyes.

“No!” he yelled, and took off, out of the bullpen. By this time, most everyone else had noticed the noise, and one of the agents not one the team had been able to stop him before he got all the way and was struggling to keep him still, by holding him around the middle. Finally, Reid gave up his struggles and went limp in the man’s arms and eventually fell unconscious.  
“Morgan,” Hotch said, from where he was standing, “take Reid and get him down to my car. I’m taking him to the hospital.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
One of life's primal situations; the game of hide and seek. Oh, the delicious thrill of hiding while the others come looking for you, the delicious terror of being discovered, but what panic when, after a long search, the others abandon you! You mustn't hide too well. You mustn't be too good at the game. The player must never be bigger than the game itself.  
~Jean Baudrillard


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Morgan take Reid to the hospital

—to whom dare I reveal my private opinion of my nearest relations? the secret thoughts of my dearest friends? my own hopes, fears, reflections and dislikes? ~Frances Burney

 

Hotch quickly retrieved his car keys and ran down to his car. He got in it and pulled it up to the front of the bureau’s building, where he saw Morgan holding an unconscious Reid bridal style. He helped him put Reid in the backseat and Morgan climbed in with him.

Hotch put the SUV into drive and took off for the hospital.

“Mmmph,” Reid groaned as started to wake.

“Hey there, Pretty Boy,” greeted Morgan with a smile.

_You’re so pretty like that, ya know, Spence?_

“Don’t,” Spencer mumbled.

“Don’t what?” asked Morgan, genuinely confused. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re getting you to the hospital. It’ll be okay.”

“No. No!” Spencer said, with more strength than he had the entire car ride. “No hospital. I’m fine. See?” said Reid as he struggled to push himself into a sitting position.

“No, you’re not kid,” said Morgan, pulling Spencer back down so the brunettes head rested on his lap.

Spencer struggled weakly against Morgan, but eventually gave up. Morgan’s arms were gently cradling his head, and being careful of the injury, but Spencer was having trouble telling Morgan from Mathew.

Morgan frowned worriedly at his small friend, when he felt him start shaking, and was shocked to see tears on his cheeks. Reid was always a privet person. He very rarely showed his emotions. Derek had only see him actually cry once or twice, but here he was, crying.

“Spencer?” he asked, worried.

“Don’t,” Reid replied again.

“Don’t what?”

“Call me, that. Sounds too much like Spence,” he said tiredly, slurring his words together.

 _Spence? What’s wrong with Spence? He always liked it when JJ called him that before… it was like their little thing. Why all of the sudden is it making him freak out?_ Morgan wondered.

“Reid, what happened?” Morgan quietly asked.

“Can’t tell you. No hospital, please?” he asked again. He was slurring his words and obviously had trouble forming complete sentences. Morgan’s mind strayed back to his drug theory. Dilated pupils, paranoia, trouble speaking…

But, there was something about this that was different than when Reid was on Dilaudid. And in the back of his mind, Derek knew it.

“Sorry bud, not going to the hospital is out of the question,” Morgan told Reid, just as they arrived and Hotch pulled up to the curb, so Morgan and Reid could get out closer to the entrance while he parked.

Morgan jumped out of the SUV and helped Reid out. Reid had gotten most of his strength back, but Morgan still insisted on supporting most of his weight on the way into the hospital.

The receptionist in the ER looked up immediately at the two men.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” said Reid, but was silenced by a glare from Morgan.

“He won’t tell us exactly, but he got to work and was acting really strange and jumpy, then later something happened and he freaked out and tried to run away, then fell unconscious,” Morgan tried to explain hurriedly to the woman.

“Okay, sir. As he doesn’t appear to be in any immediately life threatening condition, sit down and we’ll a doctor as soon as possible.”

Morgan grumbled and scowled at the direction, but nonetheless sat down, knowing he couldn’t fight the inevitable.

Hotch came in soon, and saw Morgan and Reid in the waiting room, well, waiting. Reid was standing and complaining about having to be at the hospital. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me!’ he kept saying to Morgan.

Morgan was trying to convince the kid to sit down, but Spencer wouldn’t Hotch came up behind Reid and placed a hand on his shoulder. Reid jumped and squealed. Hotch assumed he’d just surprised the boy.

“Sit,” he said in a commanding voice. Reid sat.

Spencer tried his best to not wince as his sore backside hit the plastic hospital chair. His desk chair was bearable because of the soft padding, but this thing was like torture. He squirmed a bit trying to get more comfortable.

Hotch filled out the necessary paperwork, being that he held power of attorney over Spencer and they were finally summoned back with a nurse.

“What seems to be the problem Mr. Reid?”

“Dr. Reid,” corrected Hotch and Morgan at the same time.

“Alright. Sorry. What seems to be the problem Dr. Reid?” corrected the pretty female nurse.

“Nothing,” answered Spencer stubbornly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding confused, “if nothing’s the problem, then why are here?”

“My ass nothing’s the problem,” growled Derek. “Something’s the problem, Reid here just won’t tell us. He’s been acting funny all day. Jumpy and nervous, ya know? Well, later he almost has a panic attack when one of co-workers calls his name. Tries to run from the building. Well, we managed to get him before he got all the way out and he fell unconscious. So here we are.”

“Ok, thanks. I can work with that. Dr. Reid, I’m going to need to take your height and weight, please,” she said more than asked and directed a scowling Reid towards the scale. She took his height and weight, then led him to the bed at the edge of the room. He looked at it fearfully.

“No thanks. I think I’ll stand,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the evil looking bed.

The nurse frowned at the young man. She understood he didn’t want to be here or admit something had happened to him, but this didn’t sound stubborn, it sounded frightened. Like the bed would somehow hurt him.

“Please, sir, you need to get up on the bed so we can examine you-”  
“I said no! I don’t want you to examine me so why would it make sense for you to use that to persuade me to do something I already said I didn’t want to do!” Reid snapped in a rare bout of anger.

Morgan and Hotch looked shocked at Reid’s outburst, having only ever seen him do that a couple of times, and every time he’d either been talking to an UnSub or was on drugs. There was thought again. Drugs.

Hotch snapped out of his shock and firmly looked at Reid. “Reid, get up on that table now and let the nurse examine you. I’m not telling you again.”

Reid licked his lips nervously and looked between the bed and Hotch, trying to decide which was scarier or could do more damage. Eventually, he decided that he could try and keep himself calm if he climbed on the bed, whereas dealing with an angry Hotch could jeopardize his job.

He climbed on the bed and lowered himself as gently as he could, wincing in the process, and closed his eyes to try and stay himself while he was up there.

“What hurts?” asked the nurse, seeing him wince.

“What?” asked Reid, playing dumb.

“You winced when you climbed on the bed,” she explained as she put the blood-pressure cuff around his arm. He felt it gradually tightening when she squeezed the pump.

Duck tape wrapped tightly around his wrists, connecting them to the bed frame. He couldn’t move his hands an inch…

Spencer reached over and tried to remove the object constricting around his arm.

“No, no!” he yelled, lost in a flashback, blindly starching at the cuff.

“Agent Reid! Doctor Reid! Calm down or I’ll be forced to sedate you!” the nurse yelled, trying to get to Reid, but he was already too far gone, lost in a flashback.

“No! Please don’t!”

He loomed over the bound figure, shirtless figure. Spencer was struggling in his restraints, but the more they pulled the tighter they seemed to get. Hands. Hands running down his chest… touching him. Restraints. Pull. Tighter. Stop! Let me go! Let me go!

“Dr. Reid, please calm yourself,” tried the nurse once last time, even as she called for help.

Hotch and Morgan were both watching the scene unfold in shock, not sure what to do and opting on just staying back out of the way. The way Reid was acting was worrying. They were the symptoms of someone having a flashback. Or a mental disorder.

In the back of their minds, Hotch and Morgan both understood what had happened to the younger agent, but neither was ready to admit it to themselves.

They watched as a doctor and multiple nurses rushed in the room. One male nurse pushed Reid down on to the table and shoulders, while another held his hips.

Spencer let out a blood-curdling scream. “No! Please! Stop it! Stop it! Let me go! Let me go!” He was kicking out at random directions, trying to make contact with someone. “Stop! Please!”

“Agent Reid,” said the doctor calmly looking at Spencer, “please, if you do not calm yourself, we will sedate you.”

Hotch decided to intervene then. “Doctor, he can’t narcotic drugs.”

“I’d rather not have to sedate him anyways. Maybe we can just restrain him,” he said gesturing to the restraints attached to the bed.

“You fucking crazy?” asked Morgan.

“Derek,” warned Hotch calmly.

“No Hotch. You saw how he reacted to just having a blood- pressure cuff on. You really think he’ll be better if you tie him up?”

“Agent Morgan, we have two choices. We can either sedate him, which I’m reluctant to do on two counts. One being that he apparently can’t have anything narcotic, and two being that until we know his condition, I don’t want to put anything in his system. Our other option is restraining him until we can calm him enough to not be a danger to himself and others, and then, if he still won’t relax, we might need to sedate him anyways.”

Morgan grudgingly agreed with the doctor, but he still hovered over the table.

Eventually, the doctors managed to get him strapped down on the table, but once they did Spencer erupted in tears.

“Please…. Please. Don’t. Stop! Please! Untie me! Please!!!” he was yelling rather than sobbing at the end and started to struggle once more.

“Hey, hey there,” said Morgan, in an attempt to calm him down. The doctors backed off, figuring Morgan had a better chance at this working than they did. “Hey, Reid.”  
Reid’s eyes looked frantically around the room, trying to decide who was talking to him, and where he was.

Mathew? In his bedroom? But, he only called me ‘Spence’ or ‘Spencer’ or ‘Pretty.’ Maybe I imagined the ‘Reid’?

“Reid”

No, there it is again. Who’s talking? Where am I? Brown eyes. Not blue. Morgan?

“Morgan?” asked Reid desperately.

“Yeah, kid. It’s me,” said Morgan.

“Morgan,” Reid repeated like it was a lifeline, and tried to reach up to his friend, to make sure he was really there, but found he couldn’t move his arms.

He looked up at him again, with tear filled hazel eyes. “Morgan?” he asked with a whimper, “why am I all tied up? I can’t move.”

“Sorry, pr-” he cut himself off before he said ‘pretty-boy’, remembering Reid’s previous reaction to it. “Reid,” he corrected, “We had to. You wouldn’t cooperate, and almost hurt yourself and the doctor.”

“Can we take them off now?” he asked, quietly.

“Sorry, kid. Not yet. We don’t you accidentally hurting yourself if you freak out again.”

The doctor watched the interaction between Morgan and Reid and inwardly sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. While Morgan continued comforting the young man, the doctor turned towards Hotch.

“Agent Hotchner,” he said quietly, “can I speak with you for a moment in the hall?” Hotch nodded and followed the doctor.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“I’d like to run a rape kit on Spencer.”


	4. Chapters 4- 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 4,5, & 6 of my fic "I'm no Stranger to the Rain"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo sorry guys about the wait!!!! I've been having some major internet troubles, but I was able to get quite a bit written and now I'm have 3 new chapters! I didn't feel like publishing them separately because of the time and trouble it takes, so, here ya go! 4-6!

The title of the chapter comes from the song “Pain,” by Three Days Grace.  
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Pain   
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“Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.”  
~John Donne  
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“I’d like to perform a rape kit on Spencer.”

The words shook Hotch. Rape. He should have seen it. Hell, probably had, just wouldn’t listen to himself, preferring other alternatives over the prospect that his youngest agent had been hurt in that way. Had been fucking _raped_

Hotch closed his eyes and rubbed his temples against the headache he felt coming on. _Calm down, Hotchner,_ he told himself, _going in there with guns blazing cussing will not help Spencer get through this._

“Don’t you need Spencer’s permission for this?” asked Hotch.

“Well, yes, in most situations, but seeing his condition at the moment, we can give the option to you, being that you have power of attorney over him. Would you like to speak to him first?” asked the doctor.

“Yeah,” said Hotch, still shaken from the fact that Reid, sweet innocent Reid, was raped. _Might have been. Nothing’s been proven._ said the attorney in Hotch, though the profiler screaming that Reid’s otherwise.

Hotch entered the room, seeing Morgan standing by the bed that Reid was bound to and the nurses were walking around, finished with their preliminary examination and waiting for the doctor to come back.

The doctor looked at the nurses in the room. “Thank you. You can leave now.” They filed out so that only Hotch, Morgan, the Doctor, and Reid were left in the room.

“Reid,” Hotch said softly to his young coworker. His frightened brown eyes met Hotch’s.

“Hotch?” he asked, his voice cracking half way through the word short word.

“I need to ask you a question and I need you to answer honestly, okay?” Hotch asked Reid, like he was speaking to a child. _He practically is a child! over 20 years old, but still young and despite having to grow up faster than anyone ever should and living a horrid, traumatic childhood, he still managed to come out sweet and young and relatively un-jaded! He's just a kid..._ Hotch shook off the pitying thoughts. That's the last thing Reid would ever have wanted.

Spencer nodded, but his forehead was furrowed in thought.

“Reid, were you raped?” asked Hotch, deciding it best to just rip the band-aid off.

Reid’s eyes grew wide with fear and he stared his boss square in the eye for the first time since he entered. His entire body language screamed terror. Rigid back. Blown pupils. Wide eyes. Quickened breath rate. If Hotch wasn't convinced before...

“What?!” Morgan roared in anger from behind. “You think he was raped?” asked Morgan, his anger at the situation coming out and being directed at Hotch. _Understandable. That's how Morgan deals with hard situations. He gets angry and who does he have to take it out on at the moment but the messenger_ Hotch barely noticed his quick profile of Morgan. It was second nature now and there were more important things at hand. Like Reid having been possibly raped.

“Morgan,” Hotch said in a warning tone, telling him to calm down. “Stop and think for a second. Look at his behavior. It’s that of a rape victim, is it not?” Okay, so maybe that sounded more condescending that he meant it to, but who could blame him? His mind was busy and emotions were winning their everlasting battle against his mental shields for once.

Morgan rubbed a hand over his shaved head and muttered, “Damn,” trying to keep his temper. For Reid’s sake if nothing else.

Hotch nodded and turned his attention back to Spencer. “Reid?”

Reid bit his lips and looked between Hotch and the doctor. “Reid, I need you to answer honestly or I will order a rape kit," Hotch said firmly _Reid (Jack) tell me the truth or you can sit in the time-out chair..._

Reid lowered his eyes and nodded, silent tears finally falling from his face. But not tears of pain or sadness. No, Reid's too strong for that. If Hotch knew his young employee at all, they were tears of shame and humiliation and defeat.

“Do you know who it was?” asked Hotch slowly, his heart heavy with the knowledge that Reid had, in fact, been violated.

Reid nodded again.

“Who was it?” asked Hotch, trying to draw information out of Reid one step at a time, slowing and carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. _Or a scared child_

“Did you know that 15 out of 16 rapists will never see a day in jail?” asked Reid, his voice quiet and far off.

“No Reid. I didn’t. Can you tell me the name of the man who did this?” Hotch said patiently.

“Only 16.3% of reported rapists go to prison.”

“Well, that number goes down if you can’t tell us the man’s name,” reasoned Hotch. Logic. That's how you get to Dr. Reid. Logic and facts and numbers.

“No proof he did it. No one will believe without proof,” said Reid. “Many laws require that there is proof of penetration before a rapist can be convicted. In some cultures, the victim is killed out of mercy.” He sounded thoughtful. Like a scholar, standing back and reading facts and numbers off a page _He's disassociating himself_ , Hotch thought.   
“Reid. His name.”

“Mathew,” Reid finally said tiredly. “Mathew.”

“Ok, good. That’s a start. What’s his last name? Reid?”

“Smith. Mathew Smith,” said Reid.

Great. He has a common name. Might as well be John Smith, for all the _that's_ going to do us. Why couldn't Reid get hurt by Fontienego Eashvar. He'd be easy to find.

Hotch took a breath and shook off his negative thoughts to continue questioning Reid

“How did you know him?”

“Neighbor. His apartment is next to mine.” Reid seemed unfocused and was slurring his words a bit. _Neighbors. Well, that's... not good, exactly, but at least we can find the bastard_

“One last thing Reid; do you want to run a rape kit?”

Reid’s eyes widened and he started to emphatically say no, but Hotch interrupted him.

“Before you say no, think about the advantages, Reid. There’s only a small window of time for this, and later, if you want to convict him, we’ll need physical evidence; you said it yourself. I won’t force you to do anything, but if you think you can handle this, I suggest you take the opportunity.”

Reid bit his lip and looked around the room at the three men. “What if I don’t want to convict him?” Reid whispered.

Hotch looked at him. “You’re telling me you’re fine with this man walking around and seeing him on a daily basis or the possibility he could do this to someone else?” Hotch knew he was hitting below the belt, but he needed Reid to help him put the man in jail.

Reid mulled over what Hotch had said, and eventually nodded. “I-I’ll try.”

“Ok,” said the doctor, taking over. “Do you want me to bring in a female doctor and nurse or are you fine with me?”

Reid looked down and said, “Girl please.”

“That’s fine,” said the doctor with a smile. “Most people are more comfortable with girls.”

He left for a few minutes, and soon a doctor and nurse walked in. The doctor had long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and blue eyes, and the nurse had red hair green eyes.

“Hi, my name is Doctor Williams,” greeted the blond doctor, with a comforting smile. “Are you ready to start Dr. Reid?”

Spencer nodded, wanting to get this over with.

“Excellent. Now, are you comfortable with your friends in here, or do you want them to leave?”

“They’re fine,” whispered Reid, not sure how he would react if Hotch and Morgan had to leave.

The doctor nodded and handed a checklist with a clipboard over to her nurse and got started.

She released Reid’s restraints and let him sit up on the exam bed.

“Dr. Reid, do you have the clothing you were wearing?” she asked.

“No,” said Reid,, his cheeks already brightening in humiliation. “He- he cut them up and they’re still in his apartment,” Reid hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I-I do have a towel though, th-that I covered up with.”

“Do you think you could bring that up here for evidence sometime in the near future? Maybe later today?” Reid nodded. The nurse marked a checkmark on her list.

“Now doctor Reid, this is the hard part. Can you remove your pants and undergarments for me?”

Reid’s eyes widened and his breathing picked up.

The doctor noticed this, and handed him an open backed hospital gown that she said he could use to preserve some modesty, but he still needed to disrobe.

Reid did this and sat back on the table.

“I need to comb through your public hair to see if any evidence was left there, okay?” said Dr. Williams.

Reid shut his eyes tight and reached over Hotch’s hand. He clutched his boss’s hand tightly while Hotch averted his eyes from Reid.

That ended and the nurse placed the comb in a sealed evidence bag and marked another check.

Dr. Williams then checked for visible semen or blood stains on Spencer, but couldn’t find any because he’d already bathed.

She took a swab and placed saline on the tip of it. Spencer closed his tightly when he realized what was next.

“Sorry Dr. Reid. It’s a necessary evil.” She showed Reid how to position his legs, and Reid did as he was told, squeezing Hotch’s hand even more tightly than before.

He squealed at the penetration and tried to calm himself, until the doctor was finished getting her swabs. She placed them on a slide, and let them air for about 4 minutes, before labeling them.

Reid took those minutes to control his breathing and calm himself as much as he could.

The doctor finished with that and asked the nurse over. She asked Morgan to turn off the lights and had the nurse use an ultraviolet light to find any semen that way and swabbed the positive areas then used a new swab to swipe his mouth.

Those also went on slides and were labeled.

After all that, his other injuries were photographed and recorded. After what felt like forever, the process was finally completed, and Reid was shaky.

 

“C-Can I have my clothes back please?” asked Reid.

“Here,” said Morgan, handing Reid his clothes and they all turned away as he quickly put them on and they finally left the hospital.  
“ It is little wonder that rape is one of the least-reported crimes. Perhaps it is the only crime in which the victim becomes the accused.”  
~Freda Alder  
… I hope that one was okay. I wasn’t sure how graphic to make the rape kit.

So sorry again for how long this took!

Review please?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 **CHAPTER 5- Into the Ocean**

The title is from the song "Into the Ocean" by Blue October.  
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Drugs bring us to the gates of paradise, then keep us from entering.’  
~Mason Cooly  
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Hotch took the wheel again on their way back to Reid’s apartment. Morgan was too lost in thought and angry to truly be safe driving. But, that was to be expected, Hotch supposed. Morgan had gone through sexual abuse for much of his adolescence and had no patience for it, not that anyone really does, but especially not Morgan, and was always extremely protective over Reid.

He seemed to consider the younger profiler more of a little brother to protect and watch over than a coworker. In their line of work, you tended to get closer to your coworkers than in many others, but his team went beyond just close friends; they acted like a family. And Hotch was proud of his family.

Morgan was in the passenger seat of the SUV, glaring out the window, trying to keep himself moderately calm. Stuff had happened to Reid in the past. Lots of stuff. In fact, whenever something went wrong in a case, you could safely bet that Reid was on the receiving end of the trouble. But this was the worst thing that Morgan could have possibly imagined. He was violated in the worst way possible.

Morgan wanted to find the bastard responsible for Reid’s stolen innocence. He wanted to bash his head in and scream at him. Instead though, mostly for the sake of not frightening Reid, he looked out the window and tried to breathe deeply and calm himself.

Reid sat on the bench in the back and kept his knees curled into his chest with his arms wrapped around himself. He subconsciously turned the hospital bracelet on his wrist around and bit his lip nervously. He hated that he wasn’t able to keep what happened to him from the team. He was trying so very hard, and yet it didn’t seem to be enough.

He didn’t want to see the looks of pity or guilt on everyone’s faces around him. He knew what happened to rape victims. He knew that he would likely never heal enough to go back to work and he could recite just about every statistic about rape and rape victims back to anyone that was in the mind to ask about it.

Guilt was a prominent emotion, also, for Reid at the time being. He didn’t want anyone to waste precious time on him because he was incapable of self-defense. He always had been, be it getting beat up in high-school or failing all the physical exams in the academy, he’d always been just too damn weak.

The three men were pulled out of their separate reveries as Hotch pulled up into a parking spot at Reid’s apartment complex and turned off the ignition after putting the car in park.  
.  
He turned back towards Reid and asked, “Ready?” with a slight smile, that didn’t really touch his eyes.

Reid gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut while he tried to compose himself before opening his eyes and saying, “yeah,” quietly.

Hotch pressed the lock button on the door and they climbed out, Reid albeit shakily. He held one hand on the side of the car door to balance himself. Hotch noticed it and felt a spike of anger at how in one night his usually brave, sweet coworker had changed so much.

 

“Reid, how about you and I go grab what we need to get for the hospital real quick. Morgan, why don’t you go talk to some of the people in the building and see if they noticed anything weird last night and get a statement from them? It might be useful in court if it ever comes to that. And besides, we can’t arrest the bastard without a warrant, so we might as well get as much evidence as possible.”

“Sure thing, Hotch,” he said walking off to do as Hotch asked. He went to start talking to the people on the first floor door-to-door.

Reid and Hotch headed up the stairs to get to Spencer’s apartment. They got to the second floor, and as they passed one of the doors (A201, Hotch noticed), Spencer’s eyes dilated and his breathing picked up.

“Please don’t. I don’t wanna go in there. Please! Don’t wanna!” Reid sobbed, sounding more childlike than Hotch had ever heard him.

“Reid. Reid! No one’s making you do anything. We’re just gonna go to your apartment and grab something. Alright?” Hotch said, trying to calm his young subordinate. After a bit, Reid began to calm and his eyes focused a bit better.

“Hotch?” he asked in a small voice, trying to assure himself that he was with Hotch, not Mathew.

“Yeah,” confirmed Hotch. Hotch glared at the door behind him with such intensity that he was surprised the man behind it didn’t catch on fire. He hated that the filth that had hurt Reid so much could very well be right there, but he couldn’t do anything about it until he had a warrant, and whoever he was, was more than likely at work.

They walked down the hallway to Reid’s apartment. Reid opened the door (apparently having left it unlocked that morning) and stood in the doorway.

“Reid?” prompted Hotch after a few moments.

“Oh,” said Reid, coming back to his senses and stepped into his apartment.

Hotch glanced around the small apartment, taking in his coworker’s ‘house.’ It wasn’t the perfect organization Hotch had expected out of Reid; on the contrary it was quite messy. There open books and papers strewn about everywhere, a pile of laundry sat next to an ironing board, dishes were in the sink, and items in the wrong spot (remote in the kitchen, milk in the living room and the like.) But it was most defiantly Reid, once Hotch thought about it. It mimicked his thoughts and occasional absent-mindedness.

There was a kitchen and living room that opened into one another, with no boundary other than a half-wall the change of the floor from carpet to linoleum. Off of the living room, there was a small hallway that had one door at the end and another in the side of it, presumably the bathroom.

“Reid?” asked Hotch, glancing over to see his coworker. He was glancing around his apartment thoughtfully, with a frown creasing between his eyebrows.

Reid jerked out of thoughts and turned to Hotch. “Y-yeah?” he responded shakily.

“Let’s get this over with. Come on,” said Hotch. Reid nodded and walked towards his bedroom, where he’d left the towel he’d used the night before.

“Th-There,” said Reid. “That’s what I used last night.”

Hotch glanced over at the corner Reid was pointing to and saw a bath towel with blood stains and stains of something else as well.

“Okay. I’ll be right back. To you have any plastic bags around?” Hotch asked.

Reid nodded. “In the kitchen pantry,” he responded. Hotch nodded and went to grab the bag and a dish towel, so he didn’t get any prints on it, although an evidence bag and gloves would have been a better choice. Oh well.

He quickly gathered the things to store the towel in a hurried back to Reid’s room.

He stepped through the door without bothering to knock, but paused when he heard a soft sobbing.

“Reid?” he asked carefully. “Is everything okay?”

He glanced in the room and saw Reid curled up on his bed in fetal position sobbing.

“Please, don’t,” the young profiler murmured quietly. “Please. Don’t want it. Don’ wan’ it!”

“Reid,” said Hotch more firmly, as he placed what he had in his hands on the floor and cautiously approached the bed.

“Reid?” He looked at his friend’s face and saw his eyes were squinted closed and he appeared to be lost in a flashback.

Hotch knelt by the bed so he was at face level with Spencer. “Reid,” he said more loudly, once again. “It’s me. It’s Hotch.”

Reid opened his eyes and looked curiously at his boss. “H-Hotch? Aaron?” he said quietly.

“Yeah, buddy. It’s me,” said Hotch, like he was speaking with Jack.

Spencer looked at him for a moment longer, before throwing his arms around Hotch’s shoulders and sobbing heart-wrenching cries for a long time…  
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Morgan went to the next door on the first floor after a few relatively useless interviews before coming to the door he was standing in front of now.

He rapped on the door quickly, and it was opened very quickly by a little old lady, with greying hair and soft blue eyes.

“Hello,” greeted Morgan, before pulling out his credentials. “My name is SSA Derek Morgan, and I was wondering if I could step in for a second and ask you a few questions?”

“Oh my!” exclaimed the lady, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. “What’s this all about? Oh! How rude of me. Come in, come in. Here, sit. I’ll get you some cookies and a glass of tea.”

Morgan felt his head spinning at the constant moving of the little lady, but couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement.

She came back with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and glass of tea.

“Here you go,” she said, taking a seat across from Derek and placing the cookies on the table. Then looked him up and down. “You’re quite a handsome young man.” Derek felt his cheeks heat in a blush and hoped it wasn’t showing. “Anyways, what’s this all about?”

“I’ve just got to ask some questions and maybe get a statement from you. Were you home last night?”

“Yes sir, I was. Why? Did something happen?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so. Did you notice anything strange? Like a sound or something out of the ordinary?” Derek questioned.

“Well, some of the neighbors upstairs were being quite loud, but I didn’t think anything of it. And, I don’t know if it’s important or not, but one of my neighbors, Spencer Reid’s his name, was acting strange this morning. I think he works for the FBI, too, actually. Nothing happened to the poor darling, did it?!” she asked suddenly, looking horrified.

Derek nodded slowly. “I’m afraid so ma’am. Sometime last night, he was, ah, well, he was- raped,” said Derek, having trouble with his words.

The woman gasped and covered her mouth in shock. “But- but, he’s such a good young man. Why- Why would someone do that to him?”

Derek just shook his head. “I have no idea, ma’am, but we’re doing what we can to catch the man that did this.”

“You better be!” yelled Mrs. Hines. “I want that son of a bitch behind bars, or I’ll go get him myself!”

Derek stared at her in shock for a moment before he started chuckling. “Me too. Me too.”

Derek stood up and thanked her for her help and left. He glanced down at his watch and realized that they’d been here for about an hour. ‘What’s taking Hotch and Reid so long?’

He decided to go check on them and make sure everything was okay.

Morgan had been to Reid’s apartment once before, so he knew where to go to find it. It was on the second story, and the last door to the right.

He found the door and knocked, before letting himself in.

“Hotch?” he asked, feeling weird walking through his friend’s apartment without permission. “Spen- Reid?”

He walked down the small hallway, back to where he knew Reid’s room was. When he was here before, he’d never actually entered Reid’s room; just the living room, and now he felt like he was violating his privacy almost.

“Reid?” he called again, lightly knocking on the door to his bedroom. “You guys in here?”

He pushed the door open and saw Hotch and Reid on Spencer’s bed, with Reid’s arms wrapped around the older profiler, sobbing his eyes out.

Hotch was returning Reid’s hug and offering small, comforting words.

Morgan looked at the scene, not really wanting to interrupt, but also not having much of another choice.

He cleared his throat, and Hotch looked up at him.

“Uh- well, if not interrupting, are ya’ll ready?” asked Morgan uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” said Reid, pulling away from Hotch with puffy eyes and a red face. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and looked at Hotch’s tear stained suit and felt a brief stab of guilt for ruining his boss’s suit. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Hotch gave him a glare that said he knew what Reid was about to say, and not to.

Spencer stood up shakily, and said, “One second. I’ll be right there.” He walked into the small bathroom off the side of his bedroom.

He splashed some cold water on his face and looked at his reflection.

Disgusting. Dirty. Bad.

He felt something in his chest clench up and an indescribable pain.

‘God, will I ever okay again? I don’t think I can live this way!’

It helps.

Tobias Hankle’s voice rang through his head. It helps. Reid raised his shaking hand up to the cupboard above his counter and opened it, seeing the glass bottles he’d left there.

When he took them before, he’d always felt numb; happy. ‘I want to feel that way again. God, make this pain stop!’

He grabbed the bottles and a syringe and stuffed in it his pocket.

It helps.   
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“I’ve seen the needle and the damage done”  
~Neil Young  
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 **CHAPTER 6- These Guilty Feet are Never Gonna Dance Again**

Title comes from the song “Careless Whisper”

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“Ready to go, Reid?”

Spencer jumped at Morgan’s voice and made himself relax. Calm down. He doesn’t know about the drugs. There’s no way he could.

“Yeah,” Reid called out the bathroom door. Oh God, they’re going to know. They’re profilers. They’re going to realize you have drugs on you. You should just put them back where they go…

 

“You perfect little slut. Such a good mouth. So good…”

Reid jerked out of the memory in shakes. I need them. I need them to stop the hurt. I can put my behavior off as having just been ra- hurt.

“Reid?” Morgan asked again. Reid realized he’d taken awhile coming to his conclusion.

“Coming,” he called out as he exited the bathroom. Hotch and Morgan were both staring at him with sympathetic expressions that made him want to scream. This is why I tried to hide the- what happened.

“Let’s get the evidence to the hospital, then we’ll go from there. Sound good?” asked Hotch. Reid almost cringed at the word ‘evidence’, but managed to hold back. Evidence. It made his sound like a victim; like the one of the people he swore his life to protect and he hated it.

But face it, Spency, that’s what you are now, the cynical part of him was saying.

He wanted to forget. He wanted to make all the voices and doubts and hurts inside of him just SHUT UP.

And the only way he could do that was with Dilaudid. Sure, he could go to therapy and talk about it and look for help, but Spencer wasn’t stupid. He knew what ‘help’ was. They’d want you to remember it and talk about what happened and Spencer knew that that wasn’t what he wanted or needed.   
He remembered telling victims of harsh crimes that talking helped, that it took the weight off your shoulders, and he knew he’d written and read plenty of papers on psychology and every last one of them said that talking was necessary to heal. None of those people had been in a position like his before. They were just speculating, looking at statistics. Statistics don’t mean crap though in the real world.

And that’s what Spencer told himself. All the way until Hotch stopped the car at the front of the hospital.

“Reid?” he said.

Reid jerked out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to go in, or would you be more comfortable staying in the car?” Hotch asked gently.

Reid bit his lip. “Staying?” he said quietly, ending it like a question.

“Sure thing,” said Hotch, and Morgan hopped out the car and jogged into the hospital.

“Reid? Is everything alright?” Hotch asked.

Reid almost laughed at that. ‘Is everything alright?’ ‘Oh, yes, Hotch. Everything’s peachy keen. I’m just waiting while one of my friends takes my soiled towel from last night into the hospital because I was stupid enough to let myself be fucking raped and am now weighting the pros of taking drugs that I got addicted to because I was kidnapped and given forcibly by a religious psychopath!’

Instead he just said, “I’m fine.”

Hotch just stared at him. “Okay, stupid question. What’s on your mind?”

Reid just shrugged, and turned his head to look out the window.

Hotch watched his young coworker for a second, debating rather or not he should press or let him be. Something seemed to be wrong with him, but that could be accounted by the fact that he was raped less than twenty-four hours ago. He decided to let it drop for the moment, not wanting to say something that could upset the boy or harm his healing because he wasn’t a therapist. And although he had rudimentary training and could help people with grief issues and what not, he didn’t think he was qualified for this.

The two men waited in silence for Morgan to get back. It didn’t take long though. He was back within twenty minutes and they were back in the car.

“Reid,” started Hotch.

“Yes, Hotch?” said Reid sounding very detached. Hotch found himself wondering what it was he was thinking.

“Morgan and I were talking and we think it’s best that you stay with him for a bit.”

“Why?” asked Reid, still sounding very gone.

“Well, because you obviously can’t go back to your place and Morgan has more space. Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” said Reid, then he went back to staring out the window.

Hotch considered bringing up therapy or counseling, but decided that Reid had enough to take in as it was.

They rode in silence up to Morgan’s house that he shared with his dog, Cloony.

“Let’s go pr- kid,” said Morgan, correcting himself before he accidentally said ‘pretty-boy.’

“I’ll stop by your apartment and pick up some of your stuff while you get settled,” said Hotch.

Reid nodded, then followed Morgan up to the front door. His house was surprisingly clean, though considering he was rarely home and lived with only a dog, it really shouldn’t have been all that shocking.

“So,” started Morgan awkwardly, “wanna watch TV or something while we wait for Hotch?”

“I think I’m just going to take a nap if that’s okay. It’s been a long day,” said Reid, thinking about what he really wanted.

“Okay, if that’s what you feel like,” said Morgan, getting secretly worried the sudden fatigue was a sign of depression. Which would be understandable. But, he’s right. It has been a long day. Maybe he just needs to sleep.

“I’ll show you to the guest room.”

Reid followed Morgan upstairs and into a room with a bookshelf, a dresser, a full-sized bed, and plain white walls.

“Not the coziest place on the planet, but it’s got a bed and a place to keep your things,” said Morgan.

“Thanks. It’s just fine,” Reid told him, making a b-line for the bed.   
“Ok then. See ya when you wake up.” Morgan yawned Come to think about it, maybe a nap wouldn’t be such a bad idea, just make sure to be awake when Reid is…

Morgan left the room and closed the door behind, to go lay on the couch. That way, I’ll get some sleep and should wake up if Reid gets up.

Spencer threw the covers of Morgan’s guest bed back and climbed under them. Finally! he thought, grabbing the needle and vials from his pocket. It wasn’t the ideal situation for this, but it would do.

He undid his belt and tied it around his arm, before drawing out a stream of clear liquid into the syringe.

Just gotta make sure to get the belt off and the needle out and hidden before I’m out of it, so Morgan doesn’t come in and see this.

He settled on the bed so when he fell, he’d be on the pillows, facing away from the door. He lined the needle up with a clear blue vein, before slowing pushing it all the way in. Here goes it. He pressed the plunger, releasing Dilaudid Heroin into his veins, and as soon as the syringe was empty, he took it from his arm and shoved it under the pillow next to him, then ripped the best off his arm and threw it to the ground, then passed into peaceful oblivion…


End file.
